


By The Light of Seven Hundred Suns (The Shape of A New State of Being)

by AL Caron (Lelelea)



Series: Goldenlight Cantos [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Culture, Alien Mythology/Religion, Alien/Human Relationships, Diplomacy, F/F, F/M, Gen, Hinduism, M/M, Older Woman/Younger Man, Original work - Freeform, Politics, Pre-War, References to Shakespeare, Religion, Religious Conflict, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Romance, Science Fiction, Slow Burn, Space Opera, Tags Are Hard, Talking To Dead People, galaxy, hyperspeed travel, mahabharata - Freeform, sociological sci fi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-08 17:54:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17390948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lelelea/pseuds/AL%20Caron
Summary: Lieutenant Naganpoole has gambled….and lost. His game of dice has unforeseen consequences for his creche and honor. Alone, forsaken by the crumbling empire of those he once swore to serve, he sets out on a path of conquest and revenge that will test the limits of his soul.Kali Kaition has spent seven hundred years in cryosleep, the willing harbinger of a power that could rip the universe to shreds. She is the final survivor of a catastrophic battle that decimated most of humanity. Awakened, she wants her dues, willing to do anything to regain what she lost. The power of the Ursurper's Goddess runs through her veins, after all.Their paths collide spectacularly. She has the tools, he has the plan. Will they rip each other apart in their quest for power?





	1. bear welcome in your eye, your hand, your tongue

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta-read (but I love any and all critiques of my work, be it about spelling errors or just plain encouragement). Errors are my own. Please do not reproduce in print or on any other website without my permission. 
> 
> Salvaged from the remnants of my NaNoWriMo work. Writing is hard. I'm attempting to do a chapter a week, so here's to the summer and all my sins in butchering the English language. 
> 
> Chapters 1-3 have been re-edited and re-uploaded, as I have changed some of the plot and the characters.

 

He had lost. 

 

As if he were in a dream, he pulled off his rank, placing it in the smug palm of Risha. Lieutenant Narula tried to stop him, but he never heard what the other man said, watching soundless words issue from Jonathan’s mouth. Even as his captain raged at him, he stood there, unable to feel much of anything other than a mild sort of placid horror. He ignored his beeping phone, unsure of what to tell his concerned creche members, unwilling to hear how this would shift the balance of power for his brothers and sisters. 

 

He was lost.

 

He drifted through the spaceport, wearing civilian clothes that sat strangely on a frame accustomed to pressed slacks and golden rank bars. Beings passed by him, none sparing more than a curious look at the man who clutched a ticket to Harnai in a trembling hand. 

 

The rage came to him later, creeping up on him, gnawing at his heart. For a moment, he felt as if he could shred the ship apart with his bare hands, rending metal and plastic with sheer anger, but then it passed, despair settling in its place. Words had not come to him yet, and so he sat silently in his berth. 

 

He could not return to his home in disgrace. His pride demanded that Risha answer for what he had done. In a clatter of dice, his commission, his name had been taken away from him. He was no longer of Creche Nagan. He was alone.

 

But no matter how much he tried, he could not cry. All he could do was read and reread the terse confirmation of his career being stripped away from him. He had been one of three hundred humans in the Naag-Nausen, and he knew that his defeat would only embolden those who disdained humans in the interstellar Confederacy. 

 

In a way, it was fitting that his ascent had been precipitated by his betrayal of his house goddess, and his downfall had been due to his defense of the heathens he had hailed from. His sister had called him a traitor, screaming as the naag had pulled her out of their home as their parents silently watched. Her spit had landed on his face when she had seen him in his uniform. Cara had told him during the interrogation that she had no brother, no family, only the Goddess. Upon letting her go, she had fled straight to the temple and the arrowheads had gone after her, razing it to the ground. 

  
  


The guilt haunted him, and had goaded him into taking up Lieutenant Risha’s sly offer. The dice had been loaded, and he had never been able to resist a game, especially if his honor depended on it. Now those loaded dice had sent him hurtling through space at lightspeed, free of all the ties that had bound him to the Naga. 

 

Vajra slept for most of the trip, unwilling to eat when most food tasted like ash in his mouth. He did not look at anyone or anything as he departed the small spaceport, embarking on the train that would take him to his parents. His mother opened the door and stared at him for a long moment.

 

“What do you want?” she asked, her voice hoarse from disuse.

 

He was unable to speak, only shaking his head. 

 

“You were always too temperamental for your own good,” she said, after a while. She stood aside to let him in. 

“Baba is at the market,” she told him. “He will be glad to see you.”

 

“Ma, I…”

 

She glared at the hand he had placed on her wrist and he reluctantly let go. 

 

He left his case outside his old room and wandered out into the backyard. A hen clucked forlornly as he hopped over the wire fence and made his way down through the grass and misty hills, deeper into the surrounding forest until, at last, he stood in front of the abandoned ruins of the temple Cara had tried to so desperately hide from his soldiers. The way to the place had been burned into his memory long ago.

 

The stone crunched in protest as he ducked and weaved through the fallen pillars, startling dozing frogs and a lone spider. When he closed his eyes, he could see it as it had once been in his youth, with murals on the walls and people smiling, laughing as they ate blessed offerings. At last, he stood in front of the sunken, stained whitestone, the low table where the devotees would put their items of interest to be blessed and traced the delicate, flower-shaped veining with a shaking hand. He had not stopped shaking since that fated roll of the dice.

 

Under his fingers, the cold stone seemed to shiver. Curious, he rapped on the surface, the resulting noise sounding strangely hollow. He felt the underside for something resembling a latch or a clasp, anything to make it open. There was nothing. He knelt to examine it and found three eight-petalled lotuses engraved on the base. 

 

At the start of his commission, Vajra had bought a copy of the Fated, the ancient story of how the Goddess had coiled herself into a mortal form and vanquished the derestrites from the galaxy with the help of the human-born AI. It was an impulse buy, something to remind him of home. The seller had openly laughed at his choice of reading material, uncomfortably reminding him that his religion was considered extinct, relegated to nothing more than bedtime stories for baby Naag. A passage had mentioned how she loved flowers for ‘perfectly performing the mathematical act of nature, the joy of watching the Fibonacci sequence bloom into existence’. The book would not have mentioned it if it weren’t important. 

 

On a whim, he pressed the leftmost flower’s first petal, then the second twice, the third thrice, the fifth five times, and the eighth eight times. Nothing happened. Perhaps he was supposed to repeat the pattern twice more, on the other flowers. Even as he did so, the carvings began to glimmer, but the slab remained as it was, motionless.

 

Everything happened in threes, in the book. It stood to reason that it would hold true for whenever the Goddess was invoked.So, he tapped out the sequence on the three lotuses twice more, and waited.

 

The surface had become clear, like glass and beneath it lay a woman. Her skin was the color of honey, with glossy black hair that coiled around her ears and over her shoulders. Even as he gazed upon her in astonishment, she stirred, a small frown creasing her forehead. He moved backwards as she sat up, blinking disconcertedly. 

 

“Who are you?” she asked. “Where is McKay?”

 

“I am Vajra,” he said, hesitantly. “Are you the Goddess of Light?”

 

She hummed for a moment, considering her hand and then snapped, bringing forth a perfectly shaped ball of golden light. 

 

“I suppose I am,” she said and grinned, revealing sharp, pearly-white teeth.  “Although I must say,” she continued, eyeing him up and down, “while I generally don’t accept human sacrifices, I might just make an exception for you.” 

 

“Uh,” he said intelligently. 


	2. something wicked this way comes

When I returned from the hasty tour of my temple, the captain had managed to work his way out of the rope and made a run for it. As he shouldered past me, I tripped him and he sprawled on the floor.

 

“Why not stay a while?” I asked him. He glared at me and I laughed. Being alive and well had put me in a wonderful mood. 

 

“Lady, he could harm you!” exclaimed the winded priest.

 

“I don’t think so,” I informed him, while depositing the struggling captain in an alcove. “Can you explain to him that I am not going to murder him so he stops attempting escape?”

 

“I can understand you,” said the soldier tersely. His pronunciation left much to be desired. 

 

“Wonderful!” I proclaimed, and turned to the priest. “Now, I haven’t eaten for several centuries so I would like some real food. Will you do me the honor of breaking bread with me?”

 

The priest nodded his agreement and then left, taking the priestesses with him. Outside, I could hear the murmurs of curious voices and faces. 

 

“If you’re looking for your weapon, I have it,” I said. “I am surprised that they let you in here with it.”

 

He surreptitiously checked his empty holster, eyes narrowing. “May I have it back?”

 

“After you eat with us,” I said with an ingratiating smile, “I promise they will not poison you.”

 

His face remained perfectly blank, but he crossed his arms and leaned back into the alcove, annoyance rolling off of him in waves.

 

“My ship is waiting for me,” he said, glowering.

 

“They can wait a little longer, Captain Naganpoole,” I said serenely. “No ship would ever abandon her captain.”

 

“I-how did you know my name?” he asked me.

 

“My priest told me, as your nameplate came off in your boot,” I replied. “What, did you think I could read minds?”

 

The priest and his subordinates walked in, carrying trays of steaming fragrant rice and a vegetable fried and submerged in a thick sauce. Another held an array of fruits artfully arranged on the tray. The captain’s stomach growled loud enough to be heard over from where I was standing. 

 

“Will you tell those outside to come eat with me?” I smiled towards the doorway of the room. “All may come and have their fill.”

 

They filed in, whispering excitedly. The captain’s eyes flickered over them, mentally counting their numbers. The people did not seem to like him, avoiding him entirely and shooting him scornful looks.

 

“Milady,” said a man, bowing before me, “why do you have this outsider with us?” His sneer further elaborated on his feelings.

 

“Because,” I said gently, “we break bread with our enemies so that he may one day become our friend,” and at this the captain scoffed, “and if he is no friend, we break his neck.”

 

I smiled beatifically and beckoned a now slightly terrified soldier over. “Tonight, he will dine with us,” I said to the expectant room, “so treat him as you would treat a stranger in need of succor and comfort.”

 

“This is not necessary,” he muttered and I seized his elbow, pressing hard down on the joint where I knew it would cause the most pain.

 

“I believe it is,” I said. He sat gracelessly next to me, lips pursed. My devotees sat down as well, serving the rice first 

 

“Why do we continue with this farce?” His voice was rough. “I know you will kill me.”

 

“Why are you so obsessed with killing?” I asked him. “You are the reason I am free of cryostasis, and you haven’t shot anyone yet. Will you please eat now?” 

 

He watched me raise a spoonful to my lips and chew it. I nearly groaned in pleasure. A hot meal right after being thawed was high up on my list of best feelings in the world.

 

“That good?” he asked sardonically, watching me eat.

 

“Absolutely,” I grinned. 

 

When they were clearing our plates, I approached the priest.

 

“Bring your subordinates,” I said to him, gesturing at the priestesses. When they all stood before me, I bade them to link their arms.

 

“Thank you,” I said, touching their palms and letting the energy flow through me. “For sheltering me, I give you the power to heal all that is hurt.”

 

Naganpoole had been lounging in his little corner alcove again but at this, he sat up, his gaze transfixed on our arms now glowing golden. 

 

“Lady,” gasped one of them, “this is a great thing you have bestowed on us; thank you!”

 

“Use it wisely,” I said. “Some things cannot be fixed.”

 

I gave Naganpoole his blaster and he re-holstered it, eyeing me.

 

“I have a favor to ask you,” he said quietly. “Will you come with me?”

 

“Why would I do that?” I asked with a frown.

 

His mouth opened and closed several times, like that of a fish. While he searched for words to explain his predicament, I took the opportunity to study his features. He was almost the same height as me, with broad shoulders and frown lines at the corners of his mouth. Thick eyebrows framed his dark eyes and a small scar marked where he had cut himself shaving. 

 

“I need your help,” he said at last. “The derestrites have been making their way into human space again.”

 

“That is a serious accusation. What proof do you have that the treaty has been violated?”

 

“Several rodenthan colonies have disappeared,” he said. “I suspect that they may have been taken for slave labor. There have been other incidents that lead me to suspect these aliens.”

 

“And you came to me with this?” Interesting, that he hadn’t informed his superior officer, choosing instead to tell someone who had just tumbled out of a very, very long cryo-nap.

 

His jaw hardened at this innocuous question. “I have already notified my chain of command,” he said. 

 

I smiled at him. “Then it is out of my hands.”

 

“Innocent people are going to die,” he said angrily. “This is something you could easily prevent with a snap of your fingers.”

 

“I cannot stop people from making bad decisions with a snap of my fingers,” I mocked, “and you certainly don’t need my help killing beings.”

 

“I thought you protected the righteous,” he said. His blaster whined and clicked, ready to fire and he pointed it at the two devotees standing behind him.

 

“Always,” I said, and punched him in the chest. The shot went wide as he sprawled on the floor. I crouched over him as my followers both scattered.

 

“Now tell me why you decided to wake me up. If you lie, I will rip your spine out your throat,” I hissed, my hand flexing against his neck. “Choose your words wisely.”

 

I had missed the smell of fear-sweat. Cryosleep had been long and sterile and I had no company except that of my own. If I killed him, I would lose the opportunity to learn about what had happened, but it would satisfy my bloodlust. Decisions, decisions. 

 

“There have been reports of missing ships, colonies that vanished overnight,” he said with a long sigh. “My home is going to be next. There is a pattern to the disappearances and no one believes me when I say that it is going to increase in frequency.”

 

“Why not?” I asked, enjoying the way his heartbeat stuttered when my hand tightened. 

 

“I-I don’t know,” he stammered. “Please let me go, I swear I won’t harm your devotees anymore, I was only curious-”

 

“Anymore?” I asked. “How many have you killed?”

 

“Milady,” it was that priest again, “milady, his soldiers approach. They’ve already arrested so many, you have to do something!”

 

“Call them off or I kill every single one,” I told Naganpoole, letting him up. He scrambled to get away from me, looking frantically for his weapon. I picked it up and crushed it, the metal groaning. 

 

“This is Captain Naganpoole,” he said, hovering at what he assumed to be a safe distance from me, “call off your men, I repeat call off your men. I am alive and unharmed.”

 

But it was too late. An enterprising soldier had already thrown a stun grenade. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will try to have a weekly posting schedule, but it is difficult to keep up with my college work schedule. Again, any comments, kudos or love is welcome!


	3. what's done cannot be undone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters, back to back? You're a bunch of lucky heaux.

“Armed guards have been posted at her door,” his aide passed him a tablet. “She is sedated as well, so there should be no problems with her waking up and attempting anything. I have also notified the crew that we currently transporting dangerous personnel and to be aware at all times.”

 

“Thank you Lieutenant Narula,” he said. “How are ship repairs progressing?”

 

“Our hyper-engines are almost ready. All other systems are at optimal operation levels.”  

 

“Keep me updated,” he said. “Make sure no one goes near her suite as well.” 

 

He had just submitted a report regarding his detour to Para V to Major Well. In less than twenty millicycle, the naag had responded with a curt message telling him to meet with xem at a particular set of coordinates. At least this time the Major had decided to reprimand him in private. 

Scowling, he got up and paced the length of his suite. His face still throbbed from the welt the Goddess had given him in the temple. It was not as if he had held any particular expectations about their first meeting, but a mean left hook had not been high on the list. 

 

It had taken five years to narrow the search down to a handful of planets. The old holy books had been acquired easily enough from a private seller, but understanding the hidden clues in them had been a more difficult matter. Each sentence would contradict the former and several had led to hidden traps and dead ends. When the AI had hidden her, it had clearly meant for only a select few to find her. 

 

That old excitement bubbled up in him again, effervescent in his chest. At long last, in his grasp sat the key to freedom for his planet. All of this hinged on him being able to convince her to believe him, which would be difficult, as he had just knocked out her and her worshippers and put them in the brig. 

 

The ship rumbled underneath his feet in the familiar three-two-one of a hyperlight jump. Another four jumps and he would be at the rendezvous point. Each jump would take fifteen millicycles, so he had little more than half of a centicycle to think about his excuses and whether they would hold up to scrutiny. Bad enough he had barely limped away from a skirmish with a pirate, he was now bringing in the symbolic leader of a well-organized cult and attempting to present her as a cooperative, valuable military asset. While she was most certainly the latter, she was also definitely not the former. 

 

His headache was growing worse and he began to pace again. The naag diplomat had not responded to his communique about the recovery of the Goddess of Light. He probably thought that he was a crackpot and had ignored it. There was nothing he could do, except wait.

If he lost his commission on this gamble, he would become an indenture for his creche. More than the loss of a paycheck, it would be the loss of his honor. He would never see his mother or father again. Vajra was all too aware of the consequences of failure. He was determined to never know that feeling again.

 

At 2735 Seswenna Standard Time, he stood straight and proud in front of Major Well. All naag were intimidating, reaching on average a height of eight feet, their bodies long and coiled with power, but xir was particularly lethal looking. The conference room was making him sweat.

 

“Not only did you disobey a direct order to not engage the populace of Para V, you have also been involved with the Cult of Light?”

 

“I can explain-” he started, but the guard behind him seized his arms and wrenched them behind his back. He winced at the rough treatment; this was the second time he had been treated like the enemy.

 

“Put him in the brig,” the Major ordered. “The court-martial will sort him out.”

 

Now here he was, back in the dark. He kept track of the hyper engine jumps, the vibrations jarring him awake every time he put his head down. The cell was freezing, the ship designed for the naag body, and the cold was supposed to prevent the inhabitant from being too active. 

 

“Naganpoole, you idiot,” he said out loud. “What are you going to do now?”

 

Two hours ago, he had been a triumphant captain, and now his entire career was in jeopardy.

 

\----------

 

He was twiddling his thumbs and shivering when the cell door swung open in the middle of night cycle four.

 

“Naganpoole, come out,” said a familiar voice. “Goodness, it is freezing in here!”

 

No sound came out of his throat. 

 

‘Sir, are you all right?” It was Lieutenant Narula. A warm hand touched the bruise where the Goddess had taken a swing at him. As his night vision adjusted to the light spilling from the doorway, he could see that it was indeed the deity, examining his face concernedly. She wore a dark blue silk dress that made a soft susurration as she moved.

 

“He’s got a concussion,” she said to the naag behind her. “The hematoma will be gone soon; I fixed it.”

 

“How did you find me?” he managed to ask.  Narula helped him stand, and he shook him off impatiently. 

 

"Thank you," he said to the younger man, who smiled at him wanly by way of reply. "It's good to see you again."

 

“Your aide was kind enough to tell me where you had gone,” she said. “It was a simple matter to throw a fit until you were released. The good consular officer here received your message and passed it on to the ambassador.”

 

One of them put a warm mug of tea in his hands as they made their way down the corridor and he sipped it, letting the warmth and relief wash over him.

 

“They’re going to court-martial me,” he breathed, remembering. 

 

“No, sir,” said the Lieutenant. “You’re getting a promotion, from what I hear. Congratulations, Colonel Naganpoole.”

 


End file.
